Evidence, the First Amendment, and 2257

Aside from the observations in my previous post, one thing that stands out about the en banc opinion in Connection Distributing Co. v. Holder (PDF) is its repeated demands for evidence to substantiate the plaintiffs' First Amendment claims. The dissenters spend much of their ink explaining why the court's evidence-focused analysis is inappropriate for a First Amendment challenge such as this one. In my view, the en banc majority's approach is not only inconsistent with First Amendment principles; it also seems to discriminate against sexually non-conforming speakers - here, as Judge White puts it in dissent, "all adults who desire in any fashion to create, share, or disseminate non-obscene, sexually-explicit depictions of themselves, or other adults, without relinquishing their anonymity." I will attempt to summarize.

Evidence re: enforcement. As Judge Kennedy discussed as length in dissent, it is most improper for the court to base its ruling in large part on the fact that 2257 has never yet been enforced in the settings at issue in this case. To uphold a law because its most dubious applications have not been enforced turns First Amendment law on its head. As Kennedy writes, "A very purpose of the overbreadth doctrine is to invalidate those law whose statutory language gives such sweep that law enforcement can selectively enforce the law on the basis of the speech’s content." Moreover, it is a cornerstone of the law that unenforced laws, especially vague or overbroad ones, promote an unacceptable self-censorship.

Evidence re: the adult entertainment industry. The court relies on the Meese Commission report and some general statements in the record to conclude that most pornography involves adults who are sufficiently youthful that they could readily be mistaken for minors. Relying on this broad generalization, it concludes that to the extent 2257 is overbroad in its application to material where performers/models are clearly of age, that overbreadth cannot be "substantial" because it is so rare for adults over, say, 25 to get in front of the camera. The court continues "Connection has not pointed us to any" adult publication featuring exclusively mature or middle-age adults, "and has not introduced any evidence showing that this...situation even exists." Although I will not link to any here to protect your delicate sensibilities, one need hardly be a dedicated porn collector to be aware that such publications, and videos, and websites, do exist.

Moreover, even acceping the dated and politically rigged Meese findings, they concern solely professional, commercial pornography. The majority accepts that 2257 applies to noncommercial speech, and it hardly needs to be proved that following recent leaps in digital technology there is a lot of amateur and/or noncommercial pornographic speech going on, which cannot simply be presumed, absent evidence, to match trends of the porn industry in the 1980s. Which brings me to a third point.

Evidence re: existence and prevalence of variant sexual speech.The court complains that "the record is utterly barren about whether some, many, indeed any, American couples are affected by [the] application of the statute [to home production of explicit materials for private use]-and, if so, in what ways." This line may have made more sense before the invention of the digital camera, or indeed the Polaroid camera. Does the court really need a record to show that anyone engages in home production for their own use? Moreover, the court has before it, in addition to Connection, an anonymous swinger couple who wished to publish explicit personal ads with home-produced images in Connection's publications. Surely it's hardly a leap from "this form of middle-aged sexual expression," as the court terms it, and one in which similar couples take sexy pictures but don't seek to publish them in a swinger mag.

The point of all this, I think, is that the court wouldn't require evidence that a potentially broad category of speech even exists in other First Amendment contexts. As Kennedy points out: "The Supreme Court has never done this." I don't think this is purely result-oriented, however. I think it is a specific reaction to sexual variance: to some jurists, variant sexualities are a mysterious black box, the contents of which are generally assumed not to matter or even exist unless proven. This suspicion is reinforced by the following statement dismissing swingers' privacy concerns regarding 2257:

It may be that there are advertisers in Connection's magazines who have greater privacy concerns about revealing their identities to law-enforcement officers for the limited purpose of confirming their age than about revealing their identities to unknown inquirers for the purpose of facilitating a liaison. But the question is whether such individuals would have a cognizably reasonable basis for suppressing their communications in this setting, and that is something Connection's affidavits and evidence do not support.

The court finds it unimaginable, absent proof, that people who engage in recreational sex with new acquaintances could possibly be concerned about disclosing their identities and activities to non-swinger government officials. The court also demands proof of what Judge Moore, in dissent, finds obvious: "Revealing one’s sexual tendencies to the government is very different from revealing these tendencies to someone who has been chosen and pre-screened and is known to share these same tendencies." Whoever these strange people are, the court finds them incomprehensible, and demands proof that they exist and that there is any rhyme or reason to what they do. As Judge Moore recognizes, the result is a baseless imposition of the 2257 requirements on a sizeable American subculture to which there is virtually no reason to apply it.

2257 upheld: swingers have no privacy interests?!

The full Sixth Circuit on Friday rejected a constitutional challenge to tough federal record-keeping requirements (PDF) for sexual imagery in print and online, on a partisan 11-6 vote.

A panel of the appeals court held the Section 2257 law unconstitutional in 2007. But in the ideologically polarized, conservative-dominated Sixth Circuit, a grant of en banc review almost invariably means a very conservative ruling – in this case, written by archconservative Jeffery Sutton. AVN has a quicky sketch of the case, which was brought by a small magazine that publishes explicit personal ads for swingers.

Some general observations:

The court considers 2257 to be a “content-neutral” law subject to “intermediate” scrutiny. This is because, although the law clearly is based on content, it is also aimed (ostensibly) not at content itself but at fighting child pornography. This part of the ruling is arguable but quite plausible; it gets worse from here.

Sutton is baldly derisive of the swingers who submit their pictures to the plaintiff publication and their interest in the privacy of their identities. “To the extent the advertisers are concerned that the law gives the government access to their names, addresses and other identifying information,” he writes, “they haveo more to complain about than every taxpayer in the country.” The difference being, of course, that IRS records – unless you're taking some very unusual deductions – generally don't attach your identity to your sexuality. Regardless, Sutton appears to believe that swingers don't actually have privacy interests, because:

Under § 2257, it is true, the government has access to these images and the identities of the individuals for the limited purpose of ensuring they are of age. But under Connection’s business model, so potentially does the rest of the world. The essence of the company’s service is to facilitate non-platonic connections between anonymous advertisers and anonymous subscribers, something it does by giving advertisers the opportunity to respond to inquiries they have solicited and by giving advertisers the opportunity to lift the veil of anonymity, to say nothing of other veils, to these unknown inquirers.

You've got to be kidding me. Because these people engage in casual sex, we assume that they have no sense of privacy whatsoever? That's what Judge Sutton seems to think; he goes on to say that maybe some of these people are more concerned about being outed to the feds than to other swingers, but there's just not enough evidence. This is a classic sexphobic move: sexually unconventional people, because they transgress certain normative sexual boundaries, are assumed to have no boundaries whatsoever.

In keeping with this sexphobic theme, the decision repeated relies on factual findings from the notorious and discredited 1986 Meese Commission on Pornography Report, for example to suggest that pornography almost invariably features very young adults and that there is a serious danger of minors ending up in what is marketed as adult pornography. Even if we take these findings at face value, they were made before the adult entertainment industry itself undertook strong and ongoing efforts to combat child pornography and keep minors out of porn.

Legally speaking, Sutton focuses on 2257 as an age-verification system, and largely ignores the burdensome how-when-where details that are at the heart of objections to the law. This may be because the plaintiffs focused on the argument that age verification shouldn't be necessary when material involved individuals who are clearly not young. Interestingly, though, even Judge Sutton admits that "the law would have difficulty withstanding an as-applied attack by a mature-adults-only magazine that included photographs only of readily identifiable mature adults." The decision also entertains the possibility that the law might be invalid as applied to private individuals producing material for their private enjoyment. In addition to these possibilities, the decision does seem to leave room for a variety of attacks on the devilish details of 2257.

On the other hand, the court holds that these aspects and applications of the law have to be challenged piecemeal -- that the law is not so clearly invalid in so many situations that it should be struck down altogether. And (contrary to the argument of at least one 2257 defender), the court agrees that 2257 does apply to the noncommercial material.

These points and others are covered in the four cogent dissenting opinions. I'll have more to say in another post about the court's questionable approach to questions of evidence, both regarding the impact of the law and the sexual expressions it affects, and how it is in tension with First Amendment principles and reflects the court's sexphobia.

Does an anti-porn documentary violate federal law? (cont'd)

Way back in November, I blogged about then-brewing blogtroversy over a new agitprop film, which argues that pornography is harmful to society. Particularly interesting to me was contention over whether the film, which contains copious excerpts from commercial porn films, violates the federal recordkeeping requirements for pornographers, known as Section 2257. I promised to take a close look at this legal question - but I didn't get around to it until now. Better late than never.

The basic duty. The core of the law, 18 USC 2257, is this:

Whoever produces any ...film [or other media] which contains one or more visual depictions ...of actual sexually explicit conduct...shall create and maintain individually identifiable records pertaining to every performer portrayed in such a visual depiction.

Seems pretty straightforward. And the definition of "produce" in the law is very broad indeed. It includes:

digitizing an image, of a visual depiction of sexually explicit conduct; or, assembling, manufacturing, publishing, duplicating, reproducing, or reissuing a book, magazine, periodical, film, videotape, digital image, or picture, or other matter intended for commercial distribution, that contains a visual depiction of sexually explicit conduct...

This clearly covers "secondary producers" who repackage content originally created by others - including documentary filmmakers. I therefore think it's reasonably clear that 2257's recordkeeping duties extend to the makers of a film like The Price of Pleasure.

"Fair use" does not apply to 2257. I have encountered three arguments to the effect that 2257 does not extend to this film. The first is that the film constitutes a "fair use" of the explicit images that is permitted by law. This is something of a non sequitir, since the "fair use" defense applies only to the law of intellectual property - as reflected by the fact that the film begins with a "Fair Use Notice" that references the US Copyright Act, and not 2257. It is fine so far as it goes - the makers of The Price of Pleasure should be safe from an infringement suit by the pornographers whose work they excerpt - but is irrelevant to 2257. Nor is there reason to expect that courts would impose a "fair use" exception to 2257 based on the First Amendment, since the fair use doctrine was developed to balance the competing interests that arise in IP disputes; the court has never referred to it in discussing the regulation of child pornography, which is the basis for 2257.

Is there an "obscured genitals" exception? A second argument is that 2257 does not apply because the documentary digitally obscures the naughty bits of performers in the various porn films it excerpts, thus rendering it no longer "sexually explicit." This argument has a superficial appeal, but doesn't seem to comport with the relevant statutory definition, which is:

“sexually explicit conduct” means actual or simulated—

(i) sexual intercourse, including genital-genital, oral-genital, anal-genital, or oral-anal, whether between persons of the same or opposite sex;

(ii) bestiality;

(iii) masturbation;

(iv) sadistic or masochistic abuse; or

(v) lascivious exhibition of the genitals or pubic area of any person;

18 USC 2256(2)(a). Notably, the law contains another, different definition of sexually explicit conduct that applies where minors are involved - and that definition specifically employs the word graphic, defined to mean that "a viewer can observe any part of the genitals or pubic area of any depicted person ...during any part of the time that the sexually explicit conduct is being depicted." This is a broad definition of graphic, but presumably would exclude consisent obscuring of the genitals. It is significant, therefore, that the term graphic is not employed in the definition that pertains to material not involving minors. I think it is relatively plain, therefore, that the term sexually explicit conduct (as applied to material involving only adults) includes depictions that are partially blurred. Sexual intercourse or masturbation is still sexual intercourse or masturbation.

But what if we concentrate not on sexually explicit conduct but on the term depicts? Is this conduct still being depicted if naughty bits are obscured? Neither the law nor any regulation defines depicts. Dictionary definitions of the term are somewhat circular: decpict means represent means portray means make a picture of means depict. It is at least arguable that depict is ambiguous as to whether it includes an obscured representation. But there are two reasons why I think it should :
(1) In common usage, I think we would say that a film does depict something even part of the thing being depicted is obscured, whether by shadow or by digital effects, where it is in fact a film of that thing and identifiable as such.
(2) If depict were defined more narrowly, it would make the use of the term graphic elsewhere in the statute largely, perhaps entirely, superfluous. One traditional rule of thumb is that a statute should not be interpreted in such a way that part of it is superfluous. If Congress used narrower language in one part of the law and not another, it clearly meant for them to be interpreted differently, and reading depict narrowly would seem to negate this.

Of couse, the fact that 2257 is a criminal statute, and the fact that it places restrictions on speech, are two factors suggesting that it should be generally be construed narrowly. And since I think 2257 is generally a flawed, overbroad statute, I would be happy for it to be interpreted as narrowly as possible. But I think it is fairly likely that 2257 does cover films with the naughty bits obscured - certainly likely enough it would be unwise not to try to comply.

Is there an educational exception? A final argument is that The Price of Pleasure is exempt because it is an educational film. This is based on the language of federal regulations, which state:

Sell, distribute, redistribute, and re-release refer to commercial distribution ...but does not refer to noncommercial or educational distribution of such matter, including transfers conducted by bona fide lending libraries, museums, schools, or educational organizations.

28 CFR Part 75(d).

At first glance, this might seem to create a broad exception for educational materials. But it doesn't, for a couple of reasons. Let's assume that the distributor of this film is in fact a "bona fide...educational organization" - it is in fact distributed by the Media Education Foundation, apparently an educational non-profit. And let's also assume that educational distribution here can include charging a fee, i.e., selling, while still falling into the exception - the "noncommercial or" would seem to suggest as much. That means the film is not covered by 2257(f)(4), which criminalizes the sale or distribution of covered material without a 2257 compliance notice (stating where age verification records are stored, etc.) And, let's assume that the regulation itself is reasonable and valid, even though a federal appeals court has stated that under the statute itself, "The plain text and definitions of the terms used admit of no commercial limitation on who will be considered producers." (This from a panel of the Sixth Circuit, which went on to hold 2257 unconstitutional in at least some sitautions. The decision has been vacated for rehearing by the full Sixth Circuit. For more on the case, see this article.)

So far, so good. But there is no textual basis for this regulatory exception to apply to 2257(f)(1) through (3), which make it a crime to produce covered material that later gets sold without including compliance notices and actually creating and maintaining accurate records. In other words, the exception seems to mean that the distributor, MEF, is in the clear - but it doesn't seem to be of any help to the filmmakers, who would still violate the law by failing to create and maintain records, and to include compliance notices.

Summing up. The above analysis is by no means exhaustive - this is a blog, not a law review - but I think it is enough to suggest that the producers of a film like this have serious reason to think they are required to comply with 2257. In other words, it's well within the CYA margin. If requiring documentary filmmakers to document the ages of performers in their source material seems impractical, even absurd - and to maintain an address where government officials can drop by anytime during business hours for the next several years to check those records - well, that's because 2257 is a badly written law. It takes the Mom-and-applie-pie premise of keeping minors out of pornography and takes it to absurd and, in some cases, likely unconstitutional lengths.

Does an anti-porn documentary violate federal law?

A recent documentary on pornography has prompted much discussion on blogs dealing with feminism, sexuality, sex work, pornography and related topics. The film is called The Price of Pleasure, and it intercuts clips from recent porn releases with clips from interviews with industry insiders and critics. The film is essentially a pointed argument that pornography is harmful to women and to intimate relationships. Among the many criticisms of the film is that its producers and distributor failed to comply with the detailed federal record-keeping requirements to which pornographers are subject. The law is 18 US Code Section 2257, and it is intended to ensure that only adults appear in pornography. It states that:

Whoever produces any book, magazine, periodical, film, videotape, digital image, digitally- or computer-manipulated image of an actual human being, picture, or other matter which—

(1) contains one or more visual depictions made after November 1, 1990 of actual sexually explicit conduct; and

(2) is produced in whole or in part with materials which have been mailed or shipped in interstate or foreign commerce, or is shipped or transported or is intended for shipment or transportation in interstate or foreign commerce;

shall create and maintain individually identifiable records pertaining to every performer portrayed in such a visual depiction.

Covered producers are also required to place a notice of compliance on all covered materials. The penalty for each violation is up to five years. Adult film producer Ernest Greene argues that the film is covered by, and violated, 2257 here and here. Adult Video News editor Mark Kernes makes the same argument here. Similar criticisms have been levelled at an explicit slideshow exhibited by anti-pornography at lecture appearances around the country. This material has been defended on the ground that it falls under a "fair use" exception to 2257. (They seem to be confusing copyright law with 2257, but the argument does go deeper than this misnomer.) And some critics of this anti-pornography agitprop contend that these legal arguments are weak, and attention should be focused on rebutting its arguments.

I haven't yet seen a serious, detailed analysis of 2257 and whether it applies to material like this, or for that matter anything written by a lawyer. I'll attempt that in a forthcoming post.